Only In The Movies
by Ross7
Summary: A moonlit night and an unknown type rescue at a creepy old mansion combine with Johnny's overactive 'movie' imagination to get him into some serious trouble. Unfortunately, he’s not the only one in serious trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**"Only In The Movies"**

**By Ross7  
**

It was an absolutely beautiful, balmy, early summer evening in Southern California…if you weren't a fireman fighting a Santa Ana windblown maelstrom, that is…

* * *

Captain Hank Stanley's A-shift finally returned to L.A. County Fire Department Station 51, following six full hours of backbreaking brushfire battling.

The six slow-moving firemen took turns scouring the soot and sweat from their blackened bodies.

* * *

"Lights out in two!" the terribly tired Captain warned his 'washed up' crew, as they came straggling into the Station's dorm in their t-shirts and boxers.

The fatigued firefighters set their bunker pants and boots up beside their bunks, before collapsing—gratefully—onto their mattresses.

No one noticed when the lights went out, because the exhausted men were asleep the moment their heads hit their pillows.

* * *

The fatigued firemen stayed right where they laid...for all of fifteen minutes.

Then the claxons sounded.

**"Station 51..."**

Stanley and his crew threw their covers off and began climbing out of their comfortable beds and into the cold bottom half's of their bunkers.

**"Man down...unknown type rescue...213 East Morrow Drive...Ambulance responding...Two-One-Three East Morrow Drive...Time out...23:02"**

The guys shrugged their suspenders into place and filed out of the dorm.

* * *

The tired firefighters trotted across the garage and scrambled up into their trucks, still sliding jackets and helmets on.

"Station 51. KMG-365," Hank Stanley acknowledged the dispatcher. The Captain passed his paramedics a copy of the call slip, before crossing the bay and climbing up into the Engine.

DeSoto turned the little piece of paper over to his partner.

Gage recorded the call and clipped the slip to the dash. "Hang a right."

Moments later, both trucks pulled right out onto the street in front of the Station, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

* * *

213 East Morrow Drive turned out to be an enormous mansion with a tiled roof and gables, surrounded by an ancient cottonwood grove. The hedges lining the circular drive were untrimmed, and the large lawns lacked a manicured look, as well.

The two trucks pulled right up in front of the place.

Their drivers cut the sirens, and their occupants piled out.

* * *

The paramedics grabbed some equipment from the Squad's side compartments and then joined their fellow firefighters at the mansion's front door.

Their Captain pressed the doorbuzzer.

An eerie 'gong' sound filled the air.

The men exchanged amused glances and waited patiently on the moonlit porch for someone to appear.

When nobody did, Stanley exhaled an impatient gasp and hit the 'gong' again.

Which resulted in several snorts of suppressed laughter.

Hank gave up on the 'gong' and began banging a big, brass doorknocker.

'C'mon...c'mon...' Paramedic John Gage silently urged. 'These equipment cases ain't getting any lighter...' The fireman finally set his heavy burdens down and took a step or two back, to stare up at the big, ugly abode. "Yah know...I saw a house just like this on the Late-Late Show the other night."

"Yeah. Me, too!" Firefighter Chet Kelly quietly confessed, as his feet shifted uncomfortably beneath him. "It was in one of those horror flics."

"Right!" Gage agreed. "The butler kept a beautiful blonde heiress chained up in the dungeon! The place was loaded with secret passages and—"

"—And that's the only place you're ever going to find a house like that," his partner, Roy DeSoto, suddenly interrupted. "In the movies!"

Gage stared at DeSoto for a few seconds and then sadly shook his head. "No imagination!"

"Kelly! Lopez! Grab some flashlights and check the back of the house!" their Commander bugled, as he became bored with his banging. "Before we go barging in," he told his engineer, Mike Stoker, "I'd better call dispatch and make sure we've got the right address..." He slipped a handy-talky from his right coat pocket and thumbed the call button. "L.A., this is County 51..."

**"Go ahead, 51..."**

"L.A., request address check on our last call, logged at 23:02..."

**"Standby, 51...51, the call reads: Man down...unknown type rescue... 213 East Morrow Drive."**

"Roger that, L.A.," the Captain acknowledged. "51 clear." Stanley stared up at the house number—213—for a few seconds and then turned back to Stoker. "Mike, you sure this is East Morrow Drive?"

"Well, if it's not," his engineer came back, "someone's been playing games with the street signs."

"Man!" Kelly breathlessly exclaimed upon his return. "It's even creepier out back!"

His Captain rolled his eyes and questioned the third member of his engine crew. "No answer?"

Marco Lopez shook his helmeted head.

"Well, we can't stand out here all night!" the Captain finally determined and turned the doorknob. Hank smiled, as tumblers 'click'ed and the heavy portal swung open.

There would be no need for the forcible-entry tools.

"Fire Department!" Stanley shouted, as he stepped into the dimly lit entryway. "Anybody home?"

No answer.

The paramedics picked their equipment back up and then they, and the others, followed their fearless leader inside.

* * *

"This is the Fire Department!" Stanley called out again. "Anybody home?"

Still no answer.

In fact, except for the loud ticking of a clock in the entrance hall, the whole house was filled with an eerie silence.

The paramedics sighed and set their heavy cases down again.

Stanley turned to his men. "All right, Roy. You and Marco check upstairs! Mike and I will cover this floor. Gage, Kelly, you two get the basement! Move out!"

"Why do we always get the basement?" Gage grumbled, just beneath his breath.

"What are we looking for?" Kelly nervously inquired of his search partner.

"Beats me!" Gage teased. "It's an _unknown_ type rescue..."

"How about the basement door—for starters!" their impatient Captain prodded.

The two foot-dragging firefighters fled the entrance hall.

* * *

Gage and Kelly managed to make their way into the kitchen.

John jerked a door open—a broom closet.

Chet pulled another portal open—a pantry.

Gage latched onto a third door's knob and pulled. Its un-oiled hinges creaked, eerily. He smiled, triumphantly and motioned his search-mate over.

Kelly flicked his flashlight on and shone it down a very steep set of basement stairs.

"If there's a beautiful blonde heiress down there," Gage began, "I get to rescue her!"

"That's not a dungeon!" Kelly reminded him.

John stared sadly at Chet, and slowly shook his head. "No imagination..."

"Oh-oh no," Kelly corrected his colleague. "I've got an imagination, all right! That's why I'm gonna let you go first. That way, if there's a tall dude down there—with a long, black cloak and a wolf's-head cane," he paused to tap Gage on the chest, "**you** get to rescue _him_!"

John jerked the creaky portal fully open. "Na-ah-ah. After you..." he insisted with a wave of his arm. Upon seeing his companion's mustached mouth opening in protest, he quickly added, "I went first the last time..."

"All right," Kelly reluctantly conceded. "But I should probably warn you. You'd better be ready to get the hell out a' my way! Because, if I see even so much as a mouse, I'm gonna go screaming into the night! And I'll be plowing through anything—or anybody—that gets in my path!" Chet gave his chuckling chum an annoyed glare. Then he drew in a deep breath and begrudgingly began descending the basement stairs

The two men made it down about halfway, and then stopped, hearing their Captain calling for them.

The duo gladly retreated and went racing back to the entrance hall.

* * *

"Yeah, Cap?" the panting pair simultaneously exclaimed, as they came skidding to a stop in front of Stanley.

"Upstairs!" their Captain ordered and passed the new arrivals the medical equipment. "First room on the right!"

Gage grabbed the cases he was handed and took the stairs, two steps at a time.

Kelly latched onto the oxygen tank and the remaining case, and followed his friend up the stairs.

* * *

The case-carriers entered the first doorway on the right.

Judging by all the books it contained, the dimly lit room was a library.

There was an elderly lady lying, motionless, on an ornate, Oriental rug—which covered about a third of the room's hardwood floor.

John's partner was kneeling beside the non-moving woman, performing his initial patient survey.

"Heart?" Gage wondered, dropping his gear and himself down next to DeSoto.

Roy replied with a quick shrug of his shoulders. "She's got a goose-egg the size of my fist," he announced and began opening and emptying equipment cases. "Apparently, she fell and hit the back of her head. Probably, on the edge of that thing," he added, motioning to the large oak desk resting on the floor in front of one the room's wall-to-wall bookcases.

John tossed his helmet up onto the desk and donned his stethoscope.

His partner finished his preliminary exam and began reaching for their Bio-phone. "Let's get her patched in. The docs might be able to determine what caused the fall..."

Gage nodded and grabbed their cardiac monitor.

Their Captain poked his head into the room. "Ambulance is here," he announced. "You guys got everything you need from the Squad?"

Gage gave him a nod and then frowned, as a sternal rub and a dose of smelling salts produced no results in their patient. "Cap? Can you check the medicine chests and nightstands for any prescription meds? Oh, and try to find her purse, too. There may not be any pills in it, but her wallet might contain some helpful medical information."

"You bet! Chet, you get the bedrooms!" their Commander relegated. "Marco, you get the bathrooms! Mike and I'll handle the purse detail."

As the firemen exited, the ambulance attendants entered, towing a gurney.

* * *

Kelly was the first man back. He returned from the bedrooms empty-handed.

Lopez followed a couple of minutes later, with his helmet full of pill bottles he had pulled from medicine chests.

Gage dumped two thirds of the helmet's contents into an 'urp' sack, and then placed the paper bag on their patient's stretcher.

"According to her driver's license," Stanley stated, as he and Stoker re-entered the room, "she's Mrs. Margaret Bentley. No medical info and no 'scrip's," he added, sounding almost apologetic.

"Thanks, Cap!" Roy acknowledged, as he accepted the purse that was passed to him. DeSoto snatched up several cases and followed the attendants as they towed the packaged patient from the room.

"I wonder where Mister Bentley is?" Marco queried, and stood there, staring glumly down at the remaining plastic pill bottles still in his helmet—Mr. Arthur Bentley's prescription meds.

"Yeah," Chet chimed in. "Someone had to call this in."

"Chet's right, Cap," Mike Stoker concurred. "This is just too weird! The rescue doesn't even match the call!"

"It's the full moon," John jokingly determined, trying his level best to sound solemn and sinister. But a broad grin betrayed him. He picked up the remainder of their paramedic gear and went snickering out into the hall.

Stanley and his Engine crew exchanged amused glances. "C'mon!" Hank urged. "There's a bed back at the Station, with my name on it!"

Lopez pulled Mr. Bentley's prescriptions from his helmet and set them down on the desk. Then he exhaled a resigned sigh and followed his fellow firefighters from the library.

* * *

John finished stowing their gear. He closed the side compartments on the Squad and stepped up to the driver's door. "Doggone it!" he exclaimed and slammed his open palm into the side of the truck.

Hank Stanley, who was halfway into his seat, heard the paramedic's angry expletive, and winced. "What no-ow?"

"Ah, Cap..." Gage regrettably replied, " I forgot my helmet...again."

"That's the third time this month, John!" his irritated Captain realized. "Why can't you just leave it fastened to your head?"

"It gets in the way of the phone and my stethosco—"

"—Never mind!" his Captain quickly cut in. "Just go get it! We'll wait for you. Kelly, go with him!"

"Ahhh, Cap. Do I have to?" Chet whined.

"Move it, you two! Or do you **want** to find out what the penalty is for making your Captain lose his sleep?" Hank threatened, seeing Kelly dragging his feet.

Chet picked up his pace.

In fact, the two helmet retrievers went trotting back up to the mansion's front door, and quickly disappeared inside.

Stoker turned to Stanley, looking curious. "What is the penalty?"

"I don't know," his Captain confessed. "But I assure you, it wouldn't be pleasant! I can get awfully cranky when I'm sleep-deprived!"

Mike and Marco grinned.

* * *

Kelly halted in the entrance hall. "I'm waitin' right here! And hurry it up, will yah! This place gives me the willies!"

"I'm hurryin'! I'm hurryin'!" John assured his creeped out companion, and took the stairs two steps at a time.

* * *

Gage reached the dimly lit library and glanced around. He spotted his helmet, setting on the edge of the desk, and smiled. As he crossed over and reached out to pick it up, he happened to glance down.

There, on the hardwood floor behind the desk, was a strange, curved scratch mark. The mark had been carved into the polished varnished floorboards by something heavy. 'Something heavy...like a bookshelf!'

He stepped up to the bookshelf that was directly behind the scratch mark. 'I'll bet there's a 'secret passage' behind this thing!' the paramedic mused, and began a careful examination of the object, pulling and pounding and probing for some sort of 'secret' lever or button…or something!

'Nothing!' he silently surmised and his shoulders slumped. He stooped to examine the funny, curved scratch mark again. Something heavy had been sliding over those floorboards, all right—and recently, too. "It's got to move!" he realized aloud.

He straightened stiffly back up, and that's when he saw that several books had been removed from one of the shelves. He reached for one of the remaining books and found that it wouldn't move. Upon closer inspection, he discovered that it wasn't a 'book', at all, but a solid block of wood with a book's title painted on it! "The Mystery on Dobbin's Moor," he read aloud and gave the block of wood a jerk.

The bookcase moved, startling him. John jumped back and stared, in wide-eyed wonder, as the entire shelf swung slowly out into the room, revealing a passageway in the wall behind it! "Only in the movies, huh..." he stated rather smugly. "I knew it! I knew it!" He stepped up and poked his head into the passageway.

It led to a descending stairs.

Gage stiffened suddenly and blinked his wide eyes in the dim light. There, at the bottom of the stairway, he could barely make out the motionless outline of a man. The explorer immediately kicked back into the paramedic mode. "HEY, CHET! GET UP HERE! HURRY!" John snatched his helmet up, and then stepped into the passageway.

The bookcase's—er, 'secret' passageway's opening mechanism reached the end of its guide rail and the object stopped moving—but only for a moment.

Because the 'stopper' on the end of the guide rail was broken, the opening mechanism left the track and a powerful spring slammed the bookcase back against the wall with a terrific force!

Gage heard the spring 'snap'. Then, something struck him in the back of the head.

There was an explosion of light.

Then...nothing.

John, and his retrieved helmet, went tumbling down the hidden staircase.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"Only In the Movies"

**Chapter Two**

Kelly heard Gage calling for him, and then a loud '_ba-ang_!'

Chet went racing up the stairs and into the library.

* * *

Gage was nowhere in sight.

"Hey, John! C'mon, man! Quit the clowning! Cap' just ain't gonna see the humor in this!" Kelly annoyedly added.

"Ga-age? " Kelly nervously called out, following a thorough reconnoiter of the room. "I know you're in here. I've been watching the door, and I would've seen you leave..." his words trailed off and a tingle went up his spine. "GAGE! GET OUT HERE! RIGHT NOW!" he demanded.

But his only answer was dead silence.

Chet shivered, and not from the cold. "...Plea-ease?" he tacked on rather pitifully.

* * *

John Gage gradually came to at the bottom of the steep, hidden stairway. The groggy rescuer groaned and rolled onto his stomach. When he opened his eyes, he couldn't see a thing. Either it was pitch black…or he was totally blind. He picked his aching, spinning head up off the floor and shook it in an attempt to clear some of the cobwebs, and put a stop to the loud, high-pitched 'ringing' in his ears. The only thing the shaking accomplished however, was to increase his discomfort—tenfold!

Somehow, the paramedic managed to make it up onto his hands and knees. He spotted a thin strip of light and slowly crawled over to it.

Gage reached up, groping in the darkness for a doorknob.

There wasn't one.

So, he leaned against the hard surface, for support, and attempted to stand. The surface may have been hard, but it certainly wasn't solid. It gave way and the whoozy fireman went sprawling out of the concealed room and onto the polished marble tiles of the mansion's entrance hall.

* * *

The paramedic emitted several more moans and groans and slowly and painfully began picking himself up off of the cold, stone floor.

John just stood there in the entryway, swaying. He was too dazed, disoriented and dizzy, to do anything else. The fireman shut his squinting eyes and placed his hands over his ears in another attempt to block out the painfully loud, and incredibly annoying, high-pitched 'ringing'.

* * *

Kelly backed out of the library and started heading for the stairs. He stopped dead in his tracks and his mouth dropped open. There, in the middle of the mansion's entrance hall, stood his no-longer-missing amigo. "Hey! How'd you do that?" he wondered, and raced down the steps to stand face to face with his finally found friend. "Will yah quit the clowning, already?" Chet pleaded, as the paramedic completely ignored him.

Gage staggered back a few feet before finally regaining his balance. He opened his eyes, saw Kelly standing there, and quietly inquired, "What's that noise?"

Chet listened, carefully. All his straining ears could detect was the loud, steady ticking of the hall clock. He stared at Gage's bare head and empty hands for a few miffed moments and then threw his arms up in complete exasperation. "That does it!" he declared and began heading for the front door. "I'm out a' here! I ain't getting the Cap' mad at me!"

Gage turned and watched in confusion as his obviously angry associate suddenly went stomping off. "What's the matter?" he wondered in a whisper. A sudden wave of nausea came over him. He grabbed his churning guts and immediately dropped to his knees.

"Man, if I were you, I'd find my helmet real quick!" Chet chastised. He grabbed a hold of the front door's knob and glanced back over his shoulder. "Before Cap' comes bargin'—" he saw something glistening on the back of his now kneeling comrade's hanging head. "Whoa-oah! You're not clowning!" he quickly realized and went rushing back up to his collapsed companion. "That's real blood!" He grabbed Gage by the arms and slowly straightened him up. "What happened?"

John tried blinking his blurred vision into focus. He saw Kelly's lips moving, but couldn't hear a word he was saying...on account of that dang incessant 'ringing'! "Can you stop that noise?" he requested. Another wave of nausea washed over him. He shut his eyes tightly and lowered his throbbing head. "Please...stop that noise," he pleaded rather desperately.

"Man! You must a' really got your bell rung!" Kelly concluded.

Gage ignored him and started struggling back up onto his unsteady feet.

Chet draped the dazed paramedic's left arm around his neck, wrapped his own right arm around the whoozy man's waist, and began heading for the exit.

* * *

Mike and Marco watched their very vexed Commander climb stiffly down from Big Red and then start heading for the mansion's front door with long, deliberate strides.

The Captain crossed the porch and pushed the not completely closed portal open. "GAGE! KELLY! OUT HERE! NO-OW! THAT'S AN ORDER!"

"Cap'!" an extremely relieved Chet Kelly exclaimed. "Johnny's hurt!"

Stanley rushed into the entrance hall to lend Kelly a hand with his burden. "Hurt? What do yah mean 'hurt'? How does someone get hurt retrieving a helmet?"

"I don't know," an equally perplexed Kelly replied. "He hit the back of his head somehow!"

"What do yah mean 'somehow'?" his furious Commander further demanded. "Didn't you see what happened? You were supposed to be with him!"

They carted their cargo over to a bench in the hall, and sat him down.

Stanley stooped in front of the injured fireman and steadied him. "What happened?"

No reply.

"It's no use, Cap', " Kelly determined. "His ears must still be ringing, or something. I don't think he can hear us."

Hank slipped his hand-held from his coat pocket and thumbed it. "HT 51 to Engine 51..."

"**Engine 51...Go ahead, Cap...**"

"Mike, Marco, bring me a backboard, a c-collar, the spare O2 and the trauma box!" the Captain requested.

"**Right away, Cap!**"

Hank exhaled a weary sigh and handed his HT to Kelly. "Call it in!" he ordered and immediately began making a mental checklist of everything he had ever learned about treating victims of head trauma. 'Keep movement to a minimum...apply cervical collar...maintain an airway...administer oxygen to minimize brain swelling...monitor circulation...check for cerebrospinal fluid...dress the wound without disturbing the underlying tissue...examine the patient for any other injuries.' Station 51's Captain exhaled another exasperated sigh. Then he pulled Gage's assessment kit from the paramedic's right coat pocket, and began his initial patient survey.

* * *

Roy was standing in the corridor in front of the Nurses' Station at Rampart General's Emergency Receiving, patiently waiting for his partner to pick him up.

The door to the doctors' lounge suddenly flew open and the ambulance attendants he'd just rode in with came hurrying out into the hall.

The driver spotted DeSoto and waved him over. "You ain't gonna believe this," he predicted as the paramedic came trotting up, "but we just got called back to that creepy old house!"

"You can't be serious!" Roy exclaimed, fulfilling the attendant's prediction.

The ambulance driver nodded. "You wanna ride back with us?"

"I'm still waiting for my partner," Roy replied, and pointed to his stack of equipment cases.

"You'll have a lot shorter wait if you come with us, " the other attendant assured him. "Our patient **is** your partner!"

DeSoto gulped, in both shock and disbelief. Then he ran over, gathered up his medical gear and went racing towards the ER's exit.

The paramedic beat the attendants to their ambulance.

* * *

"Where did you find him?" a flustered Hank Stanley inquired, when he finally finished administering his first-aid, and immobilizing their…victim.

"He was standing right there," Chet replied and pointed to the middle of the entrance hall.

During the course of Gage's medical exam, Hank had discovered a mass of bruises. "He must've slipped and fallen down the stairs," he quickly concluded.

Kelly shook his helmeted head. "I don't think so, Cap'. The last time I saw him, he went into that library...where we found that lady with the big bump on the back of her head...the next time I saw him, he was standing right there...with a big, bloody bump on the back of his head. I heard this real loud 'ba-ang— "

"—Why?" the Captain suddenly demanded, and stood there, staring up at the entrance hall's incredibly high ceiling. "Why can't two grown men rescue one helmet—without one of them nearly being killed?"

His questions went unanswered.

Hank's gaze returned to the young man they had just buckled down to the backboard.

The dressing on John's scalp wound had become saturated with blood, and his unequal pupils were no longer visible.

Stanley dropped to a knee beside their dozing trauma patient and gave his left shoulder a gentle shaking. "Jo-ohn? Wake up, pal! C'mon! You can't go to sleep right now!"

John tried to toss his heavily bandaged head, but couldn't. "Knock it off! Will yah?" he requested, his aggravated voice muffled by his oxygen mask.

Hank frowned, as his young fireman friend refused to open his eyes. "GAGE!" he shouted, and shook their unresponsive victim even harder.

"Leave me alone!" their now agitated patient pleaded of the person that kept interrupting his sleep, and started struggling against his restraints. "Leave me alone! LEAVE ME ALO—!" the paramedic's mouth stopped moving and his completely immobilized body suddenly went completely limp.

Stanley grabbed Gage's left wrist and immediately felt for a pulse. Fortunately, his probing fingers found one. Hank exhaled a silent sigh of relief. He released the paramedic's forearm and flicked the penlight back in his pried open eyes. "What am I gonna do with you, pal?" he quietly inquired of his unconscious crewman. "I swear, if I ever find out that you got hurt goofing off, I-I'll...." he let his threat just hang there in the air.

The sound of an approaching siren grew louder and louder and finally stopped.

Seconds later, Roy DeSoto came running into the entrance hall. He dropped himself, and his paramedic equipment, onto the hall floor and gave his partner a quick, but thorough, once over. "How long has he been unconscious?"

"He passed out about a minute or so ago," Stanley solemnly replied, and handed the vertical paramedic his medical notes.

Seeing that the patient was already packaged and ready to transport, DeSoto told the two white-coated men who had accompanied him, "Let's go! I'll call it in on the way!"

The attendants nodded. They transferred John Gage's backboard from the hall bench to their stretcher, strapped it securely into place, and then started towing their patient out to their waiting ambulance.

Roy watched the pair wheel his partner away and then turned to his Captain. "What the hell happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know!" Stanley smartly replied "And that's what I intend to find out! Chet take the Squad! Mike, Marco, I want this place turned inside out!"

"Aye, aye, Cap!" Kelly readily acknowledged. He snatched up the trauma box and gladly followed DeSoto out of the creepy 'place'.

* * *

"He hit the back of the head somehow," Kelly informed Gage's still completely-in-the-dark friend. "It was bleeding pretty heavily. He's gonna need some stitches. Claims he can't remember what happened. Says he can't hear anything because there's this loud 'ringing' in his ears..."

DeSoto gave his moustached informant a grateful nod and then climbed up into the back of the ambulance with the Bio-phone and their drug box.

Kelly closed the vehicle's back doors, rapped an 'all clear' and then watched it pull away. He gave the creepy-crawly dark dwelling a good-riddance glare. Then he shuddered and started heading for the Squad.

Chet was really relieved to be leaving that 'way weird' '_banging_' abode behind him.

* * *

"What are we looking for?" Mike wondered, as the three remaining firemen began searching the library on the mansion's second-floor.

"His helmet," Hank replied, and appeared puzzled, as the object of their search was not immediately visible. "It has to be in here somewhere! He didn't have it with him when Chet found him."

Stoker stopped, right in mid-search, and stood there, with his hands resting upon his hips. "Cap', everything about this rescue has been really strange."

"Yeah, Cap'," Lopez agreed. "Perhaps we should call the police?"

"I intend to," Stanley told him. "Maybe they can track down Mr. Bentley. Someone needs to inform him of his wife's whereabouts."

"No, Cap," Marco corrected. "I meant, that the police should probably come here."

Hank saw his engineer nodding in agreement, and jokingly inquired, "Why? You think somebody hit him over the back of the head and stole his helmet?" The Captain saw the looks on the faces of his crew and realized that was exactly what the two men were thinking. "That's ridiculous!"

"First, the rescue doesn't match the call..." Marco immediately reminded the skeptic. "Then Johnny gets 'mysteriously' hurt..."

"Someone had to call the fire department," Stoker stubbornly insisted. "I think there's somebody hiding in this house!"

This time, Lopez nodded his support of the engineer's notion.

"C'mon!" Hank urged. "There's got to be an explanation to all this 'strange' business. When we find the helmet, I'm sure we'll find the explanation—a _reasonable_ explanation," their still skeptical Captain added, suppressing a smile all the while.

* * *

An hour later, the three searchers finished their thorough, and exhausting, exploration of the enormous mansion, and regrouped in the entrance hall—empty-handed!

Stoker sank wearily down onto the wooden bench. "Well, Cap', are you convinced _now_?"

Stanley sighed and tried rubbing some of the stiffness from the muscles in the back of his neck. "I'm convinced we're wasting our time here. C'mon! Let's get back to the Station. I wanna call the hospital."

Lopez looked tremendously disappointed. "You're not going to call the police?"

"And tell them what?" Hank wondered. "Hello, I'd like to report a missing helmet? I don't think that would go over too big."

"Maybe not, " Mike admitted. "But what about _attempted murder_?"

Stanley stared at his engineer in complete and utter amazement. "And I thought Gage had a vivid imagination! C'mon! Let's go get some sleep! It'll give _your_ imagination a chance to rest…after running wild like that."

But the engineer remained undeterred. "Aren't you curious?"

Their Captain exhaled a sigh of complete exhaustion. "Mike, right now, I'm more tired than curious. We can look for answers again in the morning...later this morning," he wearily tacked on, on his way to the exit.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Station 51's Commander-In-Chief found himself on the phone in the rec' room. "Uh-huh...I see...Uh-huh," he paused to pass DeSoto's report on to his skeleton engine crew. "He came to on the way in. No skull fractures. No brain hemorrhaging. No broken bones. Just a mild concussion, a dozen stitches and a bunch a' bruises."

Stoker and Lopez exhaled sighs of relief.

The Captain uncovered the phone's mouthpiece. "Already did! A replacement should be arriving any minute now. Right! Thanks, Roy!" Hank concluded his conversation and returned the phone's handset to its cradle. "Thank God!" he exclaimed and began heading for his bunk. "Lights out in two minutes, gentlemen!" he warned.

Mike flicked off the rec' room's lights and then he and Marco followed their leader over to the dorm.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

"Only In The Movies"

**Chapter Three**

Meanwhile, over in Rampart General Hospital's Emergency Receiving…

"Are your ears still ringing?" Dr. Kelly Brackett asked, upon completion of his very thorough re-examination of the pouting patient in Room 202.

The frowning fireman shook his heavily bandaged head 'no'.

"Good. You can hear me. How do you feel?"

There followed a long silence.

Kel winked at the nurse, who was standing at his side. "Interesting…his ears seem to be working...but now he can't talk."

His pouting patient's pursed lips finally opened. "I was always told, if I couldn't say anything nice, I shouldn't say anything at all."

Brackett turned back to the paramedic and cracked a smile. "Well, I'm glad to see that little bump on the head hasn't caused you to lose your sense of humor."

"If I only got a 'little bump on the head', then why does my whole body hurt?" Gage complained, sounding every bit as grumpy as he looked.

"Your whole body hurts because it's covered with black and blue bruises."

"Did somebody beat me up?"

"Judging by the location of your contusions, I'd venture to say you fell down some stairs..." Brackett paused, to study his patient's reaction to his little disclosure.

At the mentioning of the word 'stairs', a picture of a dark staircase flashed through John Gage's groggy brain.

Then another fleeting mental image appeared. That of a motionless figure sprawled out on the floor at the foot of those dark steps.

"Although Chet swears that's not possible..." the doctor paused again. "What is it Johnny? You remember something?"

"I'm not sure. When you said _stairs_, I suddenly saw—" the paramedic stopped speaking and stiffened. "Doc, are any of the guys still here?"

"Roy and Chet are right outside. Why?"

"I gotta talk to 'em! Hurry! It's important! _Life and death_ important!"

"All right," Brackett allowed, and began heading for the door. "But you have to promise to behave yourself!" he called back over his shoulder.

Johnny nodded.

His doctor disappeared out into the hall.

* * *

"How is he?" Chet Kelly anxiously inquired.

Brackett folded his arms and frowned. "Right now, he's all worked up. Claims he has something extremely important to tell the two of you. Gentlemen, it's essential that he remain as _calm_ and as _quiet_ as possible."

Johnny's visitors nodded their understanding.

So Kel' pushed the portal to 202 back open and waved them inside. "Five minutes," he allotted and let the door swing shut.

* * *

Gage spotted his guests and sprang bolt upright in his hospital bed. "You guys have got to get back to that house!" he shouted.

"Hey, Johnny…take it easy!" his partner pleaded, and pressed his agitated amigo back into a horizontal position. "Did you notice? I put the IV in your 'left' wrist, this ti—"

"—You gotta get back to that house, Roy!" Johnny interrupted. "There's somebody hurt!"

"Who's hurt?"

"I don't know. It was kind a' dark. But it _looked_ like a **man**."

DeSoto and Kelly exchanged knowing glances, and decided to humor him.

"Okay, Johnny. We'll go back to the house and rescue the man. You just lie still…and don't worry. He'll be just fine..."

Gage gazed into his friends' faces. He could tell they didn't really believe him. "You don't believe me!" he exclaimed and tried to sit up again. "Please? You gotta believe me! He's layin' at the bottom of a hidden stairway!"

DeSoto kept his antsy, and all-riled-up, partner pressed down on his bed, while the duty nurse injected something into his IV's meds' port.

Johnny spotted the empty hypodermic syringe and gave the RN an annoyed glare. "I wish you hadn't a' done that! I have to tell them how to get to the secret passage!" He turned back to his disbelieving friends. "It's behind the bookcase!" he frantically informed them. His muscles were rapidly, and involuntarily, beginning to relax. "Mystery on Dobbin's Moor!" He swallowed hard and fought to keep his eyes open. His head dropped back onto his hospital bed. "Be…careful," he warned, now speaking in slow motion. "The…bookcase…is…deadly," his whispered words trailed off, as his mouth stopped working. Try as he might, he couldn't make a single muscle move. So John just lay there, fuming—silently.

The RN smiled smugly down at her perfectly peaceful patient. "See what happens when you break your promise?"

Gage gave the gloating woman one last highly annoyed glare…before finally losing his battle to keep his ridiculously heavy eyelids raised.

Speaking of promises…

"We'll come back tomorrow," Roy vowed.

Then he, and his fellow visitor, beat a hasty retreat from the room.

* * *

Kel Brackett was standing in front of one of the second floor's Nurses' Stations. He glanced up from the medical chart he'd been studying and gave Gage's rapidly retreating guests an accusing glare. "That visit went over well," he sarcastically commented. "What was all the shouting about?"

"That bump on the head must've scrambled his brains," Roy replied. "He saw a Late Late Show a few days ago, and now he's hallucinating about houses with hidden staircases."

The right corner of Brackett's mouth twitched twice. "What did he tell you?"

"Why?"

"I don't think he was hallucinating. What exactly did he say?"

Gage's visitors glanced at each other again.

Chet went first. "Well, he said there was somebody hurt—back at that house."

"Yeah," Roy chimed in. "He said it _looked_ like a **man**."

"Then he said something about a secret stairway and a secret passage," Kelly concluded.

"I think you guys should check it out," the fireman's physician advised, speaking in dead earnest. "I examined Johnny—just before you two went in there. He was completely lucid and alert. And," he paused, "he's covered with bruises—the type of bruises one would get from falling down a flight of stairs. Now, Chet claims he didn't fall down the stairs he was watching. So-o, maybe he fell down a _hidden_ stairway?"

DeSoto remained dubious.

But Kelly was beginning to come around. "It would certainly explain a lot of things," he had to admit.

"What things?" Roy wondered.

"Well, the call for instance. Remember? It came in '**man** down...unknown type rescue'. And Johnny had to get to the first floor _somehow_. And somebody had to phone the call in."

"That call has been bugging me all night," Roy remarked and crossed over to the phone. He picked the phone up from the countertop, and then dialed a number from memory.

"_Los Angeles County Fire Department Central Dispatch_," someone answered_. "How may I help you?_"

"Dispatch, this is Squad 51. I need to speak to the person who answered an emergency call at around eleven. The call was to 213 East Morrow Drive."

"_Standby, 51,_" the dispatcher acknowledged and placed the call on hold.

* * *

Two minutes later, a woman came back on the line. "_Hello?_"

"Hi. This is Squad 51. Did you receive the call from 213 East Morrow Drive last night?"

"_Yes. Why? Did it turn out to be a hoax?_"

DeSoto stiffened. "Why'd you ask that?"

"_Some hysterical woman called, screaming something about her husband finding a secret passage in their house. Can you imagine? A secret passage?_"

Roy slammed the phone down and turned to his partner's doctor. "Tell Johnny I'm sorry I ever doubted him!" he requested, before tearing off down the hospital corridor—with Chet hot on his heels.

The fleeing firemen skidded to a stop in front of the elevators, and DeSoto hit the DOWN button. "L.A., Squad 51," he spoke into his HT.

"**Go ahead, 51...**"

"L.A., we have a silent alarm at 213 East Morrow Drive. Request an ambulance—and Engine 51's assistance…"

"**10-4, Squad 51...213 East Morrow Drive...Ambulance and Engine 51 responding...Time Out...2:13**"

Kelly caught the 'Time Out' time and turned to his fellow firefighter, wearing the oddest expression on his moustached face. "2:13? How weird is **that**?"

The elevator arrived and swallowed both men up, before Kel could catch the paramedic's reply. The physician managed an amused snort and decided to go deliver DeSoto's message.

* * *

The claxons suddenly sounded in Station 51's half-empty garage, and the lights in the dorm came on.

"**Engine 51…with Squad 51**..."

Stanley and his crew of two tossed their covers off and began climbing out of their bunks and into the bottom half's of their turnouts.

"**Unknown type rescue...213 East Morrow Drive...Ambulance responding...Two-One-Three East Morrow Drive...Time out…2:13**"

The three sleep-deprived firemen exchanged mystified glances, before stumbling out into the garage.

* * *

Stoker and Lopez scrambled up into their truck, still sliding their jackets and helmets on.

"Engine 51. KMG-365," the Captain acknowledged the dispatcher. He crossed the bay and shot his engineer a completely baffled look, before climbing up beside him.

"Talk about 'deja` vu'..." Mike Stoker solemnly stated.

Stanley shot his astute engineer an anxious glance and clipped their copy of the call slip to the Big Red's dash. "This had better be good…"

Stoker pulled Engine 51 out onto the dimly lit street in front of the Station, lights flashing and siren blaring.

* * *

Roy pulled up to 213 East Morrow Drive—for the third time that shift. He cut the Squad's siren and engine, and he and Chet piled out.

The two men took some equipment cases from the truck's side compartments, and then hurried into the house.

* * *

The pair flew up the stairs and went racing through the first doorway on the right.

* * *

The rescuers set their medical equipment down on the Oriental rug, and began pulling and prying on the library's many 'wall to wall' bookcases.

None of them budged.

"He set his helmet down on the desk," Roy suddenly recalled, and crossed quickly over to the large oak object. That is when he saw the funny, curved scratch marks on the hardwood floor.

Chet followed his fellow firefighter's gaze. "How come nobody noticed these before?"

"We weren't looking for them," Roy glumly replied.

"And Johnny found them—"

"—Because he was looking for them," Roy finished, softly and stared up at shelves of books, directly behind the scratch marks. "What did he say about the bookcase?"

"I can't remember," Kelly gloomily confessed. "Something about 'goblins'?"

"No. No-o. It wasn't 'goblins'. It sounded like a book title." DeSoto stared up at the hundreds of books on the case's shelves, and noticed that some of the tomes had been removed from a certain section. "Here it is! Dobbin's! Mystery on Dobbin's Moor!" the paramedic proclaimed and tried to pull the book from the shelf.

But the book didn't budge, either.

The two men jerked, startled, as the entire bookcase began to move, instead. They glanced—wide-eyed—at one another, as the case slowly swung out into the library, revealing a secret passageway.

"How 'bout that!" Kelly exclaimed, and stepped toward the opening in the library wall. "Just like in the movies!"

"Hold it!" DeSoto grabbed him by the back of his turnout coat's collar and pulled him to a stop. "Remember the last thing he said?"

Chet did, and rapidly threw it into reverse.

The rescuers watched and waited.

The bookcase swung a few more feet out into the room…and then stopped. Its opening mechanism reached the end of its guide rail, and slipped off. The powerful spring pulled the case back up against the wall, with a terrific force—and an unbelievably loud '_ba-ang_!'

Kelly swallowed hard. "He's right. It is deadly. Hey! That must a' been the '_bang_' I heard!"

DeSoto nodded, rather solemnly. "And I'll bet there's a staircase behind there."

The sound of distant sirens grew louder and louder, and finally ceased.

A few moments later, they heard their Captain calling up the stairs.

Roy crossed over to the room's 'visible' doorway. "We're in the library, Cap!" he called back down. "We're gonna need the Ajax tool, a Stokes, and some more lights!"

It only took Stanley about two seconds to reach the room. "This had better be good!" he informed the pair, repeating his earlier warning.

Their Captain certainly could get cranky—when he was sleep-deprived.

Roy gave 'Mystery on Dobbin's Moor' a jerk.

The Fire Officer's jaw fell open—as the bookcase suddenly swung open. "Well, I'll be…"

The bookcase finally stopped moving and then slammed shut again, with a loud '_ba-ang!_'

"How did you ever find it?" their still somewhat stunned Captain inquired.

Roy frowned. "Johnny found it first, Cap…the hard way. He says there's an injured man behind this bookcase."

Stoker and Lopez came racing into the room, carrying the Ajax, the Stokes, and some more flashlights.

Mike looked around the library, and couldn't see anyone in need of a Stokes. "What's goin' on, Cap?"

"Get the Ajax primed and ready," Stanley advised. Then he turned back to DeSoto. "Do your thing, pal…"

Mike got the Ajax ready, and Roy jerked 'the' book.

Stoker and Lopez stared in complete and utter amazement, as the bookcase slowly began to swing open.

DeSoto pulled a flashlight from his coat pocket and flicked it on. He picked up the Bio-phone and the drugbox and started heading for the opening. "Chet, grab the rest of the gear and come with me," he requested.

Kelly did.

The pair disappeared into the secret passage…and headed down the hidden staircase.

"Stick the Ajax between the bookcase and the passageway's frame," Stanley ordered.

Stoker did as directed, and just in time!

The bookcase slammed shut, pinching the tool and startling the two new arrivals.

"I see you found our potential killer," Mike told his Captain.

"How on earth—?" Marco began.

"—John told them about it," the Captain quietly cut in.

John Gage's trio of friends stood there, trading grave glances.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

"Only In The Movies"

**Chapter Four**

The two rescuers reached the bottom of the hidden staircase.

Chet shone the powerful beam of his flashlight over the motionless figure of an elderly gentleman, lying face down on the floor.

Roy set his equipment down and felt for a pulse.

"Is he…dead?" Kelly nervously inquired.

DeSoto completed his initial examination. "No," he opened their base kit, picked up the phone and inserted the call stick. "At least, not yet."

* * *

Back up in the mansion's second-floor library…

Mike Stoker used the hydraulic pressure of the Ajax tool to pry the bookcase away from the wall, and created an opening wide enough to slip through.

The Captain snatched one of the extra flashlights up from the desk and flicked it on. "Make this opening a little wider, and then bring down the backboard and the Stokes," he requested, prior to ducking under the Ajax and disappearing into the secret passageway.

* * *

"How is he?" Stanley asked, when he reached the bottom step.

"Not too good, Cap," DeSoto solemnly announced. "We got to him just in time."

Hank left the staircase and stepped off across the 'secret' room. "There's gotta be another way outta here," he determined and allowed the beam of his light to illuminate their 'secret' surroundings—floor to ceiling. He stared down at a narrow strip of light, directly below a hinged section of one of the walls and gave a shove.

The wall section swung away from him and opened up into—the old mansion's entrance hall.

* * *

The Captain poked his head out into the entryway, to see what was on the other side of the hall wall.

A full-length mirror appeared.

"Well, what d'yah know!" the Captain softly exclaimed and turned his helmeted head back toward the hallway.

Two, very pale looking, ambulance attendants were staring back at him—wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

"You just about scared us half to death!" one of them emphatically stated.

"Sorry 'bout that," Stanley insincerely replied and stepped out of the hidden room, to hold the mirror open for them. "In here with the stretcher."

* * *

Stoker and Lopez came down the hidden staircase, carrying the Stokes. Their jaws also went slack, when they spotted the two ambulance guys—guiding their stretcher over to the patient.

"How did _you two_ get in here?" Marco wondered.

"Easy," one of them smartly replied. "We just walked right through the wall!"

"Cute trick!" Mike told him.

"Actually," the other attendant piped up, "there's no 'trick' to it. It's all done with **mirrors**."

The Captain pursed his lips and crossed back over to Kelly. He felt his foot hit something and shone his light down on the floor.

A black, L.A. County Fire Department helmet—with a paramedic's emblem on it—appeared.

Stanley picked the helmet up and turned to Stoker, feeling rather smug. "I told you there was a 'reasonable' explanation."

"We were both right," Mike immediately came back, looking—and sounding—equally pleased with himself. "Remember? **I** said that there was somebody hiding in this house…"

Hank flashed his 'know-it-all' engineer an unseen smile.

Roy got Rampart's ordered IV established and its flow rate adjusted. "Cap, possible pelvic fracture. I'm gonna need some help getting him on the backboard…"

His shiftmates promptly positioned themselves around Mr. Bentley's motionless body.

"On three," Roy informed his helpers. "One…two…three."

The victim was lifted carefully off the floor, just enough for the paramedic to slide the backboard under him.

"On three, again," DeSoto told his helping hands. "One…two…three."

Mr. Bentley was gently lowered, face first, onto the backboard and immediately immobilized.

The back-boarded Mr. Bentley was then placed onto the waiting gurney, and quickly buckled in.

Roy snatched the Bio-phone back up. "Rampart, Squad 51. The, uh, victim's vitals are now stable and he's ready to transport…"

"**Roger, 51,"** Dr. Brackett came back. **"Transport immediately. 51, what is your ETA?"**

"Squad 51. ETA is approximately fifteen minutes, Rampart."

"**10-4, 51."**

Roy gave the two ambulance guys a nod and they began guiding the gurney off across the darkened room.

"Somebody wanna get the mirror?" the lead attendant requested, as they neared the concealed room's far wall.

Mike and Marco watched—wide-eyed—as their Captain proceeded to walk right through the wall, closely followed by the attendants, the stretcher and an equipment-laden Roy DeSoto.

Hank suddenly poked his helmeted head back into the hidden room. "Chet, take the Squad! Mike, Marco, bring the gear! And, for Pete's sake, make darn sure you bring _everything_! I don't want to _ever_ have to come back here again—**ever**!" he re-emphasized, with a slight shudder.

His crew exchanged unseen grins, and eagerly complied.

* * *

Dr. Kelly Brackett entered Room 202 and noted that John Gage was no longer sedated. The physician frowned and glanced at his watch. It was going on four in the morning. "What are you still doing up?" he wondered, and began giving his restless patient a quick—but careful—once over.

"I was just about to ask **you** the same question, Doc." The fireman gazed up at the off-duty doctor, looking completely baffled. "Don't you ever _sleep_? An', since when, do **you** get called out—in the middle of the night—for a simple concussion, anyway?"

"Since I left standing orders with Admissions, to be notified whenever any of my family members or close, personal friends come through this hospital's doors."

"Yah mean…you actually got 'called in'…just for _me_?" the paramedic tentatively inquired, following several seconds of stunned silence.

"Twice!" Kel informed his young friend, with a rather wry smile. "You made **both** lists," the physician further explained and his wry smile broadened into a grin. Brackett gave his 'Rampart Family' member's right wrist a reassuring squeeze.

Gage returned the good doctor's grin. "How are Mr. and Mrs. Bentley doing?"

"Margaret Bentley is one door down, and is currently awake. She claims she must've fainted from all the excitement, fell back—and hit her head on the desk. All her tests came back negative, and one of the prescriptions you sent in with her is for hypotension. So I can't really argue with her 'syncopal episode' claim.

Arthur Bentley is alive—thanks to you. He came to in the treatment room. He has a mild concussion. X-rays revealed a hairline pelvic fracture on the left side, and a couple of busted ribs on the right. We were able to replace his blood loss, from the pelvic trauma. As to 'how' Mr. Bentley is currently doing…You'll be able to see for yourself in just a few more minutes. Seems the Orthopedics' Ward is overflowing. So we're going to be moving him in here—with you." Kel gave his concussed patient a concerned stare. "Speaking of **you**…How are **you** doing? Any dizziness, headaches, blurred vision, nausea?"

"No. Yes. No. Yes," Johnny smartly replied.

The doctor was displeased to hear the paramedic's response. "You make a lousy patient," Kel lightly determined. The physician picked up his 'lousy' patient's medical chart and quickly jotted down a couple of orders, for some pain relief—and some Compazine.

The paramedic, on the other hand, was pleased to hear his doctor's response. "Hopefully, the lousier I am, the faster you'll get rid of me. I wanna go back to work."

"You won't be going back to work until you get your stitches out. So you may as well relax…enjoy your stay…and work at becoming a 'model' patient."

"When can I get my stitches out?"

"Oh-oh…a week to ten days ought to do it."

"What am I supposed to do—for a week to ten days?"

"I'll be keeping you **here** for a couple more days—for observation. After that, you can use that famous imagination and curiosity of yours…" The doctor paused, looking extremely pleased. "You probably won't be able to stay _out of trouble_, but you shouldn't have any problem staying _busy_." Kel gave his forlorn young friend's wrist another reassuring squeeze and then disappeared out into the hall.

John Gage gazed glumly up at the ceiling. The _looking_ 'black and blue', and _feeling_ just a tad bit blue paramedic continued to just lie there, in his uncomfortable hospital bed, impatiently awaiting the arrival of his new 'roomy'.

* * *

Thanks to Dr. Brackett's Demerol and Compazine prescriptions, John was finally able to rest—comfortably.

In fact, the fireman slept clear through his roommate's noisy arrival, and didn't awaken again, until nearly nine.

* * *

John blinked his view of the ceiling clear and then carefully turned his heavily bandaged head to the right.

There was, indeed, a body in the bed next to his, and the guy was also awake. "Arthur Bentley," the old gentleman introduced.

"John Gage," John managed to answer back, after clearing his throat a couple of times.

"What happened to you?"

"The same thing that happened to you. Only, I didn't break anything."

Speaking of breaking things...

Mr. Bentley's face broke into a broad grin. "You must be the guy the doctor was telling me about! You must be the young fireman who saved my life!"

"I think the guys I work with saved your life. I just told them where to find you."

"You saved my life," Arthur assured him. "I would have died at the bottom of that stairs, if it weren't for you."

"Your wife would have told them about you, when she woke up."

"Perhaps. But the doc' seemed to think that it would have been too late, by then. So…thanks!"

Gage returned the grateful old gentleman's grin. "You're welcome."

Mr. Bentley suddenly turned solemn. "I'm sorry…I nearly got all three of us killed. And all because I watched that stupid 'Late Late Show' a few days ago. That movie got me thinking. Yah see, my brother, Eric, died last year and left me his estate—along with a mortgage as large as the house. I told Peggy—that's my wife's name—I told her that Eric was the 'secret passage' type. So I started measuring rooms. None of the rooms' inside diameters matched their outside diameters. So I knew I was right about Eric. The whole house is riddled with secret passageways and hidden staircases! Unfortunately, the first one I found, nearly got me…and Peggy—and _you_ **killed**!" His head turned toward the hospital room's far wall. "They say she's gonna be all right…"

Gage's grin returned. "If THEY say it, it's gotta be true. THEY know everything."

Mr. Bentley gave his roomy a strange stare.

Suddenly, somebody tapped on the open door to their room.

Craig Brice was standing in the open doorway. "Gage," he aloofly acknowledged. "May I come in?"

John overcame his astonishment and nodded.

Brice stepped into the room and began to pace—back and forth—at the foot of Gage's hospital bed. "First, I'm glad that you are going to be all right. Second, headquarters has just informed me that I will be replacing you…again. Replacing you is becoming a full time job. How can I build up my seniority at 16's, if I'm always over at 51's—replacing you? Third, I do wish that you would 'try' to be more careful. You may find this difficult to believe, but I don't perform as well when I am working with DeSoto. I sense a hostile attitude, on his part. It interferes with my concentration. Bellingham and I are much more compatible."

'Yeah,' Gage silently agreed. 'That's because **he** lets you walk all over him.'

"And so, you will try to be more careful in the future. Won't you, Gage," Brice told, more than asked, him. "For your sake, as well as mine."

"Yeah. Sure," John assured his visitor. 'For my sake…and your sake…and my poor partner's sake,' he silently added. 'Forgive me, Roy.'

"Excellent!" Craig declared. "Then I wish you a speedy recovery." With that, and a wave, he left the room.

Arthur Bentley stared after him. "Now, there goes a very concerned young man," he determined. "Too bad it's only with himself."

John snickered at his roommate's astute observation.

"He must be real 'interesting' to work with," Mr. Bentley 'politely' figured.

"I've never had that dubious pleasure. He's my replacement. My partner, Roy, has had to work with him, though. Roy claims he wouldn't mind working with Brice, if Brice would only work with him. Don't get me wrong. Craig is a great paramedic. If you don't believe me, just ask him. He'll tell you how great he is. In fact, he'll tell you how great he is even without being asked."

Mr. Bentley found the young fireman's sarcastic comments most amusing.

There was another knock on their door.

"In the mood for some visitors?" Roy DeSoto hopefully inquired.

John's eyes just about bugged right out of his head.

There, standing in the hallway, was 51's entire A-shift crew…minus one.

"Of course!" Gage assured him—er, them. "C'mon in, guys!"

The off-duty firemen filed into the room and gathered around their fallen comrade's hospital bed.

"We found something that belongs to you," Hank announced with a smile, and handed the paramedic his helmet.

John kept his recovered headgear, but returned his Captain's smile. "Thanks, Cap...guys."

"Yeah," Arthur Bentley piped up. "Thanks, guys! Yous saved my life!"

"You're welcome," Hank Stanley assured the elderly gentleman in the bed next to Gage's. "We're just glad that everything worked out all right, for you _and_ your wife."

"Say," Mr. Bentley continued, "when I get back on my feet, how would you guys like to come over and help me find more secret passageways? The old house is full of 'em!"

"Count me in!" Mike Stoker promptly responded.

"Me, too!" Marco Lopez eagerly volunteered.

"Sure!" John Gage joined in. "Why not? As long as we all wear hardhats and safety belts."

"This is gonna be so-o-o-o-o incredibly cool!" Chet Kelly confidently predicted. "Just like in the movies!"

John turned to Kelly, looking completely confused. "Che-et, I thought you said that old house gives you the willies…"

"It does! Big time!"

"Then why on earth do _you_ wanna go back there?"

"For the same reason I stay up til two in the morning watching horror movies on the 'Late Late Show', Gage. Cuz it's kind a' fun to be scared…sometimes," Chet further specified, with a waggle of his bushy brows.

Kelly's light-hearted, but truthful, comments prompted more than a few groans and grins.

Hank Stanley turned to his senior paramedic, and the two of them exchanged eye rolls.

**The End**


End file.
